


The 'Trip' of a Lifetime

by annsan



Series: What Happens In Vegas [1]
Category: NCIS
Genre: Gen, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Reverse Big Bang Challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-25
Updated: 2017-05-25
Packaged: 2018-11-04 08:15:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10987017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annsan/pseuds/annsan
Summary: Sin City has a few new secrets and Tony gets caught in a whopper.Can Gibbs figure out what's going on in time?





	The 'Trip' of a Lifetime

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Hinky_Hippo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hinky_Hippo/gifts).



> Written for LJ Reverse Bang.
> 
> Thanks to solariana for running so many of these challenges throughout the year and this time around, for putting up with me.
> 
> And this story wouldn't be here with this art by HinkyHippo. At first glance I had ideas and thoughts of which way to take it. It's because of this art that I'm splitting this into parts. 
> 
> http://ic.pics.livejournal.com/solariana/7360051/33244/33244_original.jpg

 

 

 

“VEGAS, BABY!”

The groans were pointed and not subtle as Tony’s team mates made their irritation known. They’d guessed something was up when it seemed that their SFA had beaten everyone in to work. Seeing him spend most of the morning quiet and diligently churning through paperwork had been strange, especially when he didn’t react to any of their attempts to draw him into conversation. His sudden outburst as he closed the last file that had been in his in-box with a flourish disrupted the quiet that had eventually settled on the bullpen.

“Vegas?? Is that why you’ve spent the morning actually working, Tony?” McGee looked over from his own files, astounded. “You’re going on vacation?”

“Work smarter, not harder, Probemeister!” was the only response.

“Is it not too early for Spring Break?” Ziva sneered as she glanced up from the files that filled the top of her desk. “Plus I thought you’d given up this childish custom finally after that last trip?”

“All work and no play, Zeeee-vah!”

Tony quickly opened his email and printed off several papers before shutting down his computer and taking the completed case files to Gibbs’s desk. He wanted to escape before the boss returned from his latest coffee run. Circling back to his own space, he carefully made sure the desktop was cleaned off as well as the area behind him, surreptitiously looking at his pictures, postcards and other treasures collected over the years. Opening his backpack, he shoved the papers in, then slid the bag onto a shoulder, grabbed his gun from his drawer and secured it to his side before moving to leave the bullpen.

“Sun and fun, casinos and showgirls! Behave, Probies! I’ve no intention of having to leave the attentions of a gorgeous woman to come rescue either of you!” With that, he turned and headed for the elevator, missing out on the dirty looks and irritated expressions on the faces of his team mates. The door opened and he stepped in, hitting the button and then positioning himself for a last glimpse of the bullpen, a wistful smile fleetingly appearing on his face as he saw Ziva’s hand flying around as she expressed her outrage at his parting comment.

 

***

 

Ziva looked up as Gibbs walked out of the bull pen. “Is it me, McGee, or has Gibbs consumed more coffee with Tony gone this week, yes?”

“I hadn’t noticed, Ziva. To be honest, I’ve been enjoying the quiet so much that I haven’t been paying close attention to Gibbs’s every move.”

“That is true. It is unnaturally quiet this week.”

“But a very enjoyable quiet, Ziva.” Ziva smiled but offered no response or comment as she returned to the cold case file she’d been reviewing.

Meanwhile, Gibbs exited the building and headed for his classic Charger instead of the agency vehicle. He’d heard the beginning of the conversation between his agents and still couldn’t believe how unobservant they both were. He’d have to come up with a way to teach them the error of their thoughts before DiNozzo returned from vacation. As he started the engine and maneuvered the car out of the Navy Yard, Gibbs allowed his thoughts to return to the unease he’d felt the night before. He still hadn’t been able to get any clearer thought as to what was going on but he knew that ignoring his gut was never an option. Making the drive to Tony’s apartment automatically, Gibbs continued to attempt to logic his current mood and unease. He pulled into his usual parking space, locking the vehicle and jogging towards the elevator, only to be stopped by the doorman.

“Agent Gibbs, Tony’s not here.”

“Yeah, I know, Fred. Just keepin’ an eye on the place for him.” Gibbs saw a flicker of expression on the older man’s usually bland face. “I know you wouldn’t let just anyone up there, Fred. But while you’re protecting the place from strangers, someone’s gotta protect the place from Tony and the rush he’s usually in when he’s leaving on one of his trips.”

The slightest of smiles flew across the doorman’s face. Much like the man in front of him, Fred understood Tony in a way few did and often found himself protecting the younger man from himself as much as possible. HIs expression grew thoughtful.

“I hadn’t realized Tony was actually on vacation.”

“He didn’t tell you? I would have thought he filled you in on all his plans to the minute detail.”

“He was acting kind of strange. Not shifty but not like he usually does. Plus he didn’t take his vehicle.”

“Maybe he just took a cab to the airport.”

“No. He got in one of those very plain black sedans. You know the ones…” Fred stopped when he saw the thoughtful, almost pensive look appear on Gibbs’s face. “You know, I probably just read too many of those ‘solve it yourself’ crime books. It’s probably nothing.”

Gibbs nodded but made no effort to continue the conversation or assuage the older man’s thoughts. Instead he turned towards the elevator, even more intent on getting upstairs. Exiting the elevator, he took the few steps to the apartment door in two long strides. Opening the door, he stopped before the single step down into the living room, carefully eyeing the space for anything being amiss or any sound that shouldn’t be there. Stepping down into the living room, he immediately began to search the wall of shelves, yet saw nothing amiss between the many books, few movies and carefully placed photos and knick knacks. Looking around the room, he realized that there was nothing out of place or anything added recently, so he moved on to the large, immaculate kitchen. It wasn’t until he entered the bedroom that he found what he was hoping not to find. His first stop was the top drawer of the nightstand where DiNozzo kept the solid wood box with the hand carved top that Gibbs had made for him shortly after they had become partners. Opening the box, he was relieved to see Tony’s sig sauer lying safely on the velvet material.  Missing from the box were the small knife and Tony’s personal, ‘off-duty’ weapon. Gibbs tried to not think it was anything odd. DiNozzo had been in law enforcement for enough years that he never went anywhere without being armed in some way. Seeing Tony’s personal cell phone lying next to the box was startling and confirmed that something was definitely going on that was just ‘a vacation’. He quickly checked the phone for messages, both text and voice mail, along with recent calls, looking for anything that might tell him what DiNozzo had gotten himself involved with. Finding nothing, he turned towards the large closet. Seeing most of Tony’s casual clothes still hanging, he turned away. He’d found answers here as expected but couldn’t stop thinking that they weren’t the answers he’d really wanted. His next step was to get the details to explain the answers. Where had DiNozzo really gone and why? What was he involved in? With or for whom? His next step was obvious and he quickly walked thru the living room to exit the apartment. He locked the door carefully and headed over towards the elevator. He paused by Fred’s ornate desk as he exited the elevator. The older man stood there, not speaking but waiting for a few minutes. Finally Gibbs withdrew a business card and handed it over.

“If you see or hear anything odd, Fred, call my cell immediately.”

“What do you mean by odd, Agent Gibbs?”

“Something that you’d expect to find in one of those books you like or those movies DiNozzo is obsessed with.” He turned away before Fred could reply, anxious to try to make some sense of his rolling thoughts.

 

***

 

With his now tinted blonde ends spiking up in various places, a turned-to-black geometric design on his left arm and black eyeliner smudged carefully under both eyes, Anton Diego Serrano (A.D. to his ‘friends’) donned the brown ‘leather’ jacket and picked at his hair before heading out the door of the cheap motel room he’d been ensconced in for the last five days. His time in ‘Sin City’ was halfway over yet he’d just met the man who was supposed to be his ‘in’ earlier that day. Having arranged a meet for tonight, he’d hoped to finally make some progress in a job that had the hair standing on the back of his neck since his flight had landed. He stepped outside and hailed a cab to take him a couple of miles away. Tony would have waited for the cab to stop but since A.D. had been designed as someone who lived life just a breath away from falling off the precipice, he threw two twenties at the driver and hopped out as the vehicle was still slowing next to the curb.

“A.D., glad you could meet me here.”

“I was...intrigued by your thoughts of what I might encounter if I decided to pursue particular choices shall we call them.” The nerves wouldn’t be calmed so Tony turned away to give himself a moment to make sure his game face was firmly in place. “Ok, Virgil, we should probably get this show going then.” He hoped his voice had just the right audacity in the tone.

“Sure thing. You’re going to have to trust me for a bit though.”

Without any other warning, Tony found himself suddenly blindfolded and not even sure how that happened. “This is just for safekeeping, A.D. Don’t freak out on me now.” The voice was quiet and close, but it made Tony seem anything but safe.

“Safe for who exactly?” He growled back.

“Why both of us and anyone else concerned of course.” The laughter in the voice, so different from the tone used just seconds ago made goosebumps rise on the back of his neck. “Come along, my friend. You have much to learn tonight and then on your next visit, you can dive right into the deep end.”

Tony tried to walk normally, to even put a swagger in his step. Blindfolded as he was, he doubted he’d be able to pull it off. As they moved, he tried to listens for sounds or snippets of conversation that would clue him in as to what he was about to walk into but he also found himself having to repeat his persona’s bio in his head. He knew he should be worried, should probably find a way to extricate himself and end the assignment. He’d never had an issue staying undercover before and wasn’t sure why he did this time. They stopped moving and Virgil reached up towards A. D.’s face.

“Eye cover’s coming off now. Assuming you know the drill with eyes adjusting to light, A. D.”

Tony gave a brief nod, shut his eyes yet still felt the brightness of the room surround him as the covering was removed. Slowly he opened his eyes to bright lights and tables filled with all kinds of merchandise.

“A flea market?? All of the secrecy for nothing more than a flea market!” The indignation in his voice was all too real. He couldn’t help but feel that this whole operation was nothing more than a waste of time.

Virgil chuckled darkly. “It does appear that way doesn’t it. But, it is so much more, my friend. “ He started down a row of tables, acknowledging those behind them, jabbering to whoever would listen about their merchandise. “Here we have our public merchandise. This space is open four nights a week plus weekend days for people to rent space and sell their goods. We ask no questions. We simply provide the space and whatever they require to display their items. In exchange for this, we take a 15% of sale price fee payable as they leave.”

“How do you track that? To make sure you aren’t be cheated.”

“Simple. No one leaves without showing the receipt that they’ve paid the fee.” Virgil turned to face him. “You aren’t trying to come up with a way to cheat anyone here already, are you, A.D.?”

“Nah, more…curious shall we say. Never know – I could decide to pursue something like this at some point. Good to have steps in place to protect my interests in advance.”

Virgil laughed, “Oh A.D., this is nothing but a small venture! The real trade, the real money is elsewhere.”

“Elsewhere in this building perhaps?”

“Perhaps.”

“Most likely.” A.D. bumped Virgil’s shoulder as he smirked.

“Curious, aren’t you?”

“I like to play in the deep end – bigger thrill.”

“And payoff!”

“That too!”

 

**

 

Tony let himself into the hotel room and threw his key card onto the nearest surface along with his phone, shoes and jacket swiftly following in another direction. He headed straight for the bathroom, turning on the shower. He had to get clean! He shed A.D.’s clothes as quickly as possible and climbed into the tub, wincing as the scalding water hit his skin. He reached down and adjusted the temperature a bit before grabbing the washcloth and soap, scrubbing vigorously at his skin over and over. He’d lather up, rinse and repeat and continued to do so until the water cooled. Grabbing a towel, he rubbed at his pink-tinged skin until the roughness of the towel caught his attention. Dropping the towel on the bathroom floor, he strode back into the bedroom and paced, still seeing in his mind what he’d never expected to find as the ‘real trade’.

The room Virgil had led him to was white and very bright, the air cool to the skin. Gambling tables were set up along the perimeter with men and women gathered around them. To the front was a small stage that had several bright spotlights shining on it. The air in the room was electric, charged with high dollars and expensive liquor. Tony hadn’t understood why it was all hidden away, considering it was based in Las Vegas. Virgil’s explanation that the stakes were much higher than at normal casinos didn’t make sense at all. He had a feeling that the explanation for what was really going on was built around the stakes and how high they were. Then a hush had fallen over the crowd and many turned towards the stage. A man in dark clothing and a mask over his eyes and nose came out. In his hand was a rope that was attached to a large cage. Inside the cage was a naked woman. She knelt with her back straight and eyes vacant, face devoid of expression. Tony watched in horror as several men moved forward. Discussion was low and rapid. Suddenly a bell sounded and most of the men clapped another on the back, before moving back towards the tables. Tony still couldn’t get over the idea that the man had just bought the woman. A slave, to perform whatever the man required of her.

Padding over to the dresser, he grabbed a pair of sweat pants, slipping them on. They were his, not A. D.’s and he felt grounded and calmer as the soft material brushed against his skin. He sighed, not sure why what he’d seen had disturbed him so. Having been a cop, both uniform and detective, before becoming a fed, he’d seen the worst that humanity could do. That sterile room should not have unnerved and upset him as much as some of the alley scenes he’d worked over the years. Yet he’d been appalled by the cool, business-like demeanor of the buyers and the near computerized way the transactions took place. The lack of emotion and reaction in the faces of those being sold had particularly gotten to him. Sighing, he dropped onto the side of the bed, suddenly unsure of why he was here and what the endgame was. He reached blindly behind his back until his fingers grasped his cell phone. Not really *his* phone, but A.D.’s. His was in his condo back in DC along with every other item that identified him as Anthony DiNozzo. He scrolled through the screens of icons – none of which held any interest to him. Finally he settled on the contacts. There were several bogus names and numbers –designed to legitimize his cover persona. Then the two that mattered – Virgil and Curtis, his FBI contact. He scrolled down to the last listing, which was locked to view – a feature he had added when he’d made the abrupt, last minute decision to add the number. He quickly put in the pass code and waited for the number to auto-dial. Just as the phone began to ring, he looked at the small, bedside clock and realized the time difference between where he was and where he was calling. Quickly he disconnected the call and sighed, laying the phone on the night stand. He shut off the light and laid down, knowing his churning gut and buzzing mind wouldn’t allow him much rest.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the country, the phone ringing caused Gibbs to look up from the piece of wood he was sanding. He glanced at the screen, puzzled by the unknown number that appeared. He was about to pick it up to see who was calling when the call disconnected and the screen went dark. He shrugged his shoulders, assuming prank or wrong number, considering it was an hour when most sane or sober people were asleep. He turned back to the wood, knowing he should be asleep himself but recognizing that the alarming signals his infamous gut was throwing wouldn’t let him. Something was about to go down; either a big case or most likely something involving DiNozzo and whatever harebrained circumstance he’d gotten himself in. He’d tried surreptitiously to find out where the man had gone and who he was working with or for to no avail. Vance was tight-lipped and Fornell claimed ignorance. He wasn’t sure either one knew anything but knew that between the three of them, they could easily find out. It was something he intended to work on once his team finished filing the reports on the case it had taken far too long for them to close.

 

**

 

Tony’s eyes opened to light that was far too bright. He thought he’d shut the drapes the night before, well morning since he’d been up thinking and pacing and thinking until almost dawn. He rolled over, covering his eyes with his palms, desperate to shut out the brightness.

“Thought you were supposed to be *good*. Hell, you’d be dead by now if I was anyone else!”

Tony jumped, reaching to grab his small gun at the same time. Before he was coherent enough to comprehend much, a part of his brain kicked in and he growled. “Curtis! What the hell! How did you get in here?”

“Connections, DiNozzo. We were supposed to talk this morning. Guess that wasn’t a priority for you.”

Tony grabbed his phone, noticing that, while not bright and early, it was definitely still morning by the local time zone. “It *is* still morning,” he snarked, annoyed at the surprise visit and remembering his unease the night before.

 

**

 

Curtis stalked out of the hotel, irritated at the man he left lying in bed upstairs. He got that this guy was some super-duper undercover agent. What he didn’t understand was why he was so argumentative. Didn’t DiNozzo understand that this was a *huge* case for both of them? That to break this open would basically give them the keys to the Hoover building? Where did DiNozzo get off feeling uneasy about the setup and persona he’d devised? All he had to do was play his part, get the evidence and let Curtis in at the right moment so Curtis and his team of hand-picked agents could bust them all. Ambivalent to his surroundings as he headed to his car, Curtis never saw the two men behind him. As he walked past a delivery area for the nearby casino, the two men caught up to him and grabbed his arms from behind, pulling him into the empty, alley-like area.

"Well if it isn't a piggy in a suit. What were you doing in that hotel?"

Curtis gaped at them, speechless, trying to think of a way to get free. As he moved to kick one of the men the other punched him in the face. Blood spurted from his nose and it felt as if his teeth rattled. Brass knuckles, he thought. So that's what they feel like. The blows kept coming; a fist to the gut, slaps to the ears, knuckles all over his face, kicks to the chest and back once he fell to the ground. They stopped as suddenly as they began and Curtis was pulled to his feet, held up, and pinned against the wall.

“You haven’t answered our question. That’s not a smart choice.” The arm against throat tightened.

“Just talking to a friend.” His voice was thick, raspy and nothing like he was used to.

The last words he ever spoke were uttered. A silenced pistol was placed against his head and the trigger pulled. His body fell limp, supported by the arm against his throat while his pockets were searched and items removed. Then the two men stepped away, remaining there only long enough to strip the jacket off him and use it to grab paper and other garbage from the large dumpster Curtis now lay next to. They haphazardly covered him enough so that he would be overtly seen. Then the two hurried back to their car.

 

**

 

FBI agent Tobias Fornell pulled the dark sedan into a parking spot by the diner that looked more like an old rail car than a building. Trust his ’pal’ to call on one of his only free weekends from the Bureau. He sighed as he got out of the car and headed to the entrance. The eatery was definitely preferable to meeting in Jethro’s basement. He didn’t bother to look around as he entered. Gibbs had a usual booth he could be found in. Like himself, Gibbs was dressed casually. Although Gibbs casual consisted of jeans and a sweatshirt or t-shirt, while his own definition of casual was jeans and a polo shirt. He sat down, not surprised to see a glass of ice water and filled coffee cup already waiting for him. Gibbs looked up from his plate and nodded, then looked down again and resumed eating.

Before Fornell could speak, the waitress appeared with a plate of food. She set it in front of him before turning and refilling Gibbs’s coffee cup. “Remember, gentlemen, eat first, then business.”

Fornell stared after her before looking down at the plate. The thick, breaded pork chop, potatoes, green beans and carrots looked good, but he hadn’t ordered anything so how did she know what to bring and when to even get it ready.

“Quit your wool-gathering and eat already, Tobias! Can’t talk until you do and I need answers!” Gibbs glared at him before he resumed shoving food into his mouth.

“Well nice to see the rumors aren’t true and you are just an ordinary human who even requires food. But what is that I see? Tomatoes? Only other thing you need is something green and leafy and Dr. Mallard would be ecstatic!”

Silence reigned at the table for several minutes as both emptied their plates. The waitress returned to refill coffee cups and clear Gibbs’s plate before Fornell finished his meal. When he was finally done and looked up, he saw Gibbs staring at him with his normal intense gaze.

“Now, Jethro, what couldn’t possibly wait until Monday when we were both back at the office?”

“DiNozzo.”

“What’s he gone and done now?”

“If I knew the answer to that, do you really think I’d be sitting here, talking to you, Tobias?”

“Fair enough. So what is it you expect me to know this time?”

“He’s undercover. Or at least I’m pretty sure he is.”

“Jethro, just start at the beginning.”

Gibbs filled Fornell in on the strange way Tony had suddenly left the bullpen, his apparent excitement over a trip to Vegas, most likely with his fraternity brothers and the odd conversation he’d had with Fred, the doorman.

“Wait! DiNotso’s gotta doorman??” Fornell’s shock was palpable. He muttered something about the things he could afford if he wasn’t sending most of his check to Diane before Gibbs cleared his throat.

“Cut the crap. We both know you saw through his act years ago.”

“True. So things aren’t adding up for the Gibbs Gut?”

“They might have been until I went and looked at his apartment. Tobias, when have you ever known Tony to go anywhere without his badge, gun and phone?”

“Well I can’t say I’d take two of those three items if I was going to go play in Vegas, but this is DiNotso were talking about and not me. What else have you found?”

“That’s it; nothing. There’s no record of his flying out of DC. Not even a record that he purchased tickets. Plus I double checked. He didn’t file the vacation form he made such a big deal of having me sign a couple days before he left.”

“What’d Vance say?”

“Just that he had no information for me. Something’s up. I can feel it.”

“I’ll check around but there’s been nothing on the boards to suggest anyone was involving your boy.”

Frustrated Gibbs got up, threw some money down on the table and left the diner.

 

**

 

Virgil was sitting poolside enjoying a cocktail and a very attentive, buxom red-head when two men walked up to him. “Roy. Chet. What are you doing back here? Thought you were keeping an eye on our friend’s place.”

“There’s been a development. A situation that could change how everything goes later today.”

Virgil quirked an eyebrow. “Well?”

“Umm, this is perhaps better spoken of elsewhere.”

After spending a couple minutes making sure the woman knew how important she currently was to him, Virgil accompanied them inside. Roy quickly brought his boss up to date on the visitor coming out of the hotel and the conversation they’d had with him.

“You let him go? Why is he not here so the discussion could continue with more enticing ways to get at the truth if necessary?”

“We didn’t exactly let him go,” Chet jumped in, eager to assuage any wrath that might be headed their way.

“Explain.”

“We had to persuade him to answer us at first. What little he did tell us will be the last he tells anyone.”

Virgil smirked. “So he’s been properly disposed of?”

“With the trash.”

The low snicker that sounded was positively sinister. “Well gentlemen, we still might have a problem. How do we ensure that when the trash is picked up it isn’t traced back to us? And how do we figure out if he had a connection to our new ‘friend’?”

Roy quickly reached into his pockets and pulled out everything they had confiscated from Curtis before they left him. “Maybe something here will help.”

“Perhaps. I’ll look these over. You two go back to the hotel and keep an eye on him.”

They started to turn towards the door but stopped when Virgil spoke again. “If by chance the opportunity presents itself to give A.D. a little warning, then by all means don’t pass it up. However be very careful with how you administer said warning.”

“Gotcha, Boss.”

“Yes, sir.”

 

**

 

Tony had gone back to sleep after Curtis had left the room. When he awoke again it was closer to one in the afternoon and he knew he couldn’t put off seeing what the day would bring any longer. He’d already set up a meeting with Virgil for late in the evening. Originally he’d hoped to get more information on how his venture worked but at the moment he wanted nothing to do with the case. All he wanted was to pack his bag and fly back to D.C. He’d showered and dressed, contemplating what to do until it was time for the meet. Chuckling to himself, he wondered about the comedy of his having trouble thinking of what to do for a few hours when he was in Vegas. If his frat brothers had really been on the trip with him like he’d led his team to believe…

He’d finally decided to walk along the strip. Heading out of the hotel, Tony instantly realized that he had ‘followers’. While he pretended not to realize they were there, he also worked hard to keep them far enough back so that they couldn’t catch up with him. He’d thought he managed to lose them when one suddenly appeared in front of him. He tried to act nonchalant and step around him as if he hadn’t been looking where he’d been going.

“A. D., we need you to come with us. Got a situation that needs to be cleared up pronto.”

Tony tried for bravado but it must have failed since he got a fist to the face and foot to the chest instead. He felt the well placed kick crack a rib and gasped, going down to his knees. He never expected or saw the kick to the throat. When it hit his breathing stopped, stalling in his throat and burning in his lungs. He fell soundlessly from his knees to his side, face down on the concrete.

“Guess we delivered the message and the lesson.”

When Tony returned to awareness and full consciousness, he realized he was alone. He gingerly checked out his limbs, relieved to find them all still attached and functional. His ribs were screaming at him and is throat felt as if he’d been intubated for too long. He carefully took a small breath and winced at the pain signals from both areas of his body. Knowing he couldn’t remain vulnerable on the ground, he carefully got to his knees, hissing as the cracked rib made itself known. The cop part of his brain took over and he began thinking of possible places he could go to lay low until he figured out what specifically had happened and what may have gone wrong. Obviously going back to his hotel room wasn’t even a possibility. Fortunately he’d thought to grab his phone, wallet and keys, along with his back-up weapon. Rising to his feet took longer than was probably safe to do so but he had a feeling that the guys wouldn’t be coming back immediately.

Tony shuffled out of the area and headed as normally as he could towards a Starbucks that was about a block away. Ducking quickly into the building, he slipped in to the bathroom to survey the damage. Standing at the sink, he surveyed the dirt from the shoe print on his shirt as he used a paper towel to clean his face and throat area. Knowing he couldn’t do the same with the shirt, he zipped up the jacket enough to hid most of it, hoping that he appeared normal looking to allow him to travel about strip while he tried to come up with a plan. He stopped at the counter to purchase a coffee and scone before leaving. He needed something to test his stomach and hopefully the jolt of caffeine would help him think.

For a few hours Tony managed to move around the strip fairly unobtrusively. He’d walked into most of the casinos, played a few of the cheaper slot machines to appear like a tourist and even bought a small souvenir glass at a shop. He’d also managed to put together a short list of steps he needed to do to figure out whether the entire operation was blown or not. Step one was to try to get in touch with Curtis. He found a quiet spot outside of the casino complex to make the call. The phone rang four or five times before going to voice mail and Tony opted not to leave a message. In another part of Vegas, in an office crowded with fancy furniture and mysterious file cabinets, Virgil sat at an expansive desk, staring at a phone’s screen as it rang. No picture showed up – just a name and number. He stared intently at the vibrating device until it stopped then reached for his own phone, keying up an entry and eyeing it carefully. His jaw set tightly, he quickly keyed up another screen before raising the phone to his ear.

“We’ve been compromised. … Yes, I’ll take care of it. … No, I don’t believe so….I’ll be in touch.”

He quickly made another call. “Roy, you guys need to find Serrano ASAP!” He listened for a brief period. “Well perhaps he’s still nearby then depending on the amount of damage you did. Go get him….No, don’t bring him here. Take him to the training facility.”

He hung up quickly and reached for a file on the corner of his desk. “Yes, I might be able to make this sale after all.”

 

**

 

After what seemed like hours of walking all over the strip, Tony had finally decided to stop at a sports bar and grill to get some actual food. He ordered his normal fare and sat back, keeping his sunglasses on his face to ward off any customers who might decide to be friendly. He eyed them suspiciously but couldn’t really tell if he was just being leery or had a reason to suspect any of them. He wasn’t even half way through with his bacon cheeseburger and steak fries when the local news came on. The lead story was a dead body that had just recently been discovered by a driver making a late delivery of alcohol to one of the casinos off the strip. Tony watched the report as he chewed until he realized that the location was very close to his own hotel. The victim’s name was not revealed but his gut screamed that it was Curtis. If he was right, then he knew he’d made the biggest mistake of the day when he’d called the man a couple hours prior. No longer hungry, wondering if he was being followed, he threw more than enough cash onto the table and left as quickly as possible. He headed out to find a place he felt safe enough to make a call. He needed help getting out of the mess and there was only one person he’d trust at this point. Finding himself near the receiving dock of one of the bigger resort casinos, he hid behind the trash container and turned his phone on, barely waiting for the screen to fully light up before scrolling through his few contacts to the one number he had added on impulse at the last moment. He sighed and rubbed at his eyes as he heard the voice mail kick in.

“Really bad time to not be following rule 3, Boss. It’s me, DiNozzo. I need help and I need it pronto. I gotta get out of here, Boss, and I don’t know how. I can’t leave the phone on but…oooofff!”

The phone flew from his hand as he grabbed and simultaneously dragged and kicked. Unconsciousness claimed him quickly. Roy and Chet grabbed him by the arms, flinging them so that they rested on their own shoulders. They carried him out pretending as if he was their drunk buddy who had partied to hard. A few of the tourists that passed them on the street openly smirked and laughed as they passed, never realizing what they were witnessing. The two unceremoniously dumped their charge into the back seat of the car before getting in themselves and driving away as fast as traffic would allow. Once they were far enough away, Roy grabbed his phone and quickly dialed a number.

“We got ‘im, boss.”

“Excellent! Well done. Marco knows what I want done with him so get him delivered quickly.”

 

**

 

As the vehicle pulled up to a large overhead door, it beeped as it began to rise. The vehicle pulled in side as soon as possible and the door lowered behind it, swallowing it up. Roy and Chet exited and then reached into the back, pulling their companion out as well. He moaned a little, showing signs of waking up. Marco appeared and beckoned them forward. Chet grabbed Tony and flipped him over his shoulder, easily but none too carefully carrying the extra weight. Entering a small bare room, Tony was quickly dropped onto a waiting chair, his wrists and legs quickly secured to it. Roy moved over to a visible safe in the wall and opened it, taking out a black pouch that he held up to Marco in question. He nodded but held up his hand, indicating that Roy should wait where he was. Tony slowly came around but kept his eyes closed as he tried to gauge his surroundings.

“Might as well open your eyes, Serrano. Or should I say ‘DiNozzo’.”

Tony’s eyes blinked open and he blurrily looked up to make out two of the older, menacing looking man in front of him. “What is this place?” he rasped.

Marco held out his hand and Roy quickly placed the black case into it. He turned to a small table that had been in the shadows as Roy reached up and pulled on the light cord that had been hanging down. As his vision cleared, DiNozzo looked around and couldn’t help but think that the place appeared to be just like what the hero was usually held captive at in the big blockbuster movies. Before he could smirk, snicker or come up with a sarcastic comment, not that he was sure that he could, Marco turned around, raising his hands to check the syringe and make sure there were no air bubbles in it.

“Well I believe this is definitely *the*place to begin your education and journey to what you are ultimately looking for,” he replied as Roy’s hands came down heavily on Tony’s shoulders, holding him even more still the ropes already did. Marco leaned in towards his neck. “Normally, we’d do this the usual way and just shoot this in your arm. But we really don’t have time for that process. This needs to happen quickly as we have a buyer who is very interested in acquiring you. He should be here in a few days. Don’t worry, Mr. DiNozzo. Injecting you here won’t kill you….as far as I know anyway.”

The needle pierced his skin and cool liquid seemed to burn as it entered his body. The drug seemed to take effect quickly – his blood felt as if it was on fire and his skin itched, yet a feeling a calm numbness had settled over his mind. He could hear the voices around him but felt as if he didn’t comprehend what was being said and to whom.

 

**

 

Sitting in a small, yet posh office, Marco relaxed as he listened to ringing, waiting for his boss to pick up the phone on the other end. His eyes traveled to the video monitors that lined the wall, screens switching camera feeds, allowing him to track the work being done with their merchandise throughout the warehouse. His eyes fixated on the monitor he’d programmed to remain on the space where their newest acquisition was kept.

“Status, Marco.”

“Ahh, Virgil,” His attention returning to the business at hand. “We have three females and one male who will be ready for auction at the end of the week. The females especially have come along very well in the training program after initially appearing ready to collapse upon hearing of their new roles in life. The male is still a bit feisty, perhaps argumentative. I’d suggest getting a higher price for each of the females and perhaps more carefully leading the bidding for the male. He will require a special type of owner.”

“Yes, yes, but you know that is not why I’ve been waiting for your call. Now give me the information I’m looking for, Marco.”

“I’m, uh, actually watching him as we speak, Virgil. Right now he appears as weak as a newborn animal, although to be honest, I still don’t trust him. I’d say he’s well on his way to be hooked.”

“You and your people need to move faster. The buyer has delayed their arrival as much as possible but will be landing in two days and would like to have him on a plane heading back to his country within seventy-two hours of landing.” Virgil’s irritation with the information was clear in his volume and tone.

Marco was silent for a bit, and then made an unhappy sound. “That really won’t give us the time we need to break him and begin his training.”

“The buy prefers to fully break him himself.”

“We’ll get a higher price if we wait a bit…”

“NO! He and that other agent have dangerously compromised our operation. I want him gone as soon as feasible. “ Virgil laughed, a cold sound in Marco’s ear. “Besides, Marco, I know this man well. His training methods, in this case, will rival yours, my friend, as he is looking to teach his latest acquisition some very inventive pleasure games.” Sinister laughter was the last thing heard as Virgil disconnected the call.

In the office, Marco let the phone fall back to the desk. He knew he was a hard man, life experiences had made him that way. But he couldn’t help but shiver at the sound of Virgil’s laugh as he hung up the phone. It was positively bone-chilling. He glanced over at the screens again, eyeing the cop in the small room as he lay curled in a little ball on the floor.

 

**

 

About twenty-five hundred miles away -

Gibbs shook off the cobwebs that enveloped his brain and opened his eyes. Moving to sit up, he blindly reached for the weight on his stomach. Grabbing a hand full of papers with one hand and pushing himself up with the other, he remembered what he'd been going over the night before. Their latest case had hit a dead end and he'd hoped that going over all the notes at home, away from the stifling irritation of the office would help. He tried blaming his current mood on DiNozzo being two days late in returning from his trip but he knew that Ziva and McGee and their attitudes, plus the lack of progress on the case were playing a huge role. If Dinozzo would have just returned on time...

His thoughts waylaid by a persistent beep coming from his phone, Gibbs shoved the papers onto his coffee table and reached for the old flip phone. He picked it up, peered at it and immediately dialed his voice mail, punching in his short password. He began organizing the case papers as he listened to the message, stopping and dropping them, to press the number on the small keypad that would replay the message. He listened more carefully this time and then immediately hung up, only to open his phone again, pressing a speed dial button, growling as he remembered what he'd found a few days ago when he'd searched DiNozzo's apartment. He looked at his watch again, calculating how fast he could get to the office and confront the person he was sure had answers.

 

**

 

Gibbs stalked thru the entrance doors, face set. The security guards took a quick glance and simply stepped aside, allowing him to pass without the normal procedures. The younger guard turned to his partner.

"I can't wait until Agent DiNozzo returns. Not sure what he does, but at least when he's around, Gibbs is almost human."

The older guard grinned. 'You sure did learn the ins and outs of this place quickly."

Gibbs barely waited for the elevators doors to open before he stalked into the bullpen. Quickly stowing his gun away, he made sure to make his work space noticeably different from how he left it. Ziva and McGee would arrive soon and he wanted them to know that he was in the building and they were not to be clowning around. Patting his hip to make sure his badge was secured there; Gibbs headed around his desk and moved towards the stairs. Not taking the time to check in with the director's assistant, Gibbs moved straight to the closed door, slamming it open as he barged into the office. Vance glanced up from the file he'd been perusing as Gibbs stalked closer.

"Something I can do for you, Gibbs?"

"You can tell me what you sent DiNozzo to Vegas for, Director." He was careful to put special emphasis on the other man's title, enunciating the idea that this was a topic he wouldn't be giving up on.

"I thought he was on vacation. Didn't you approve his time off, Agent Gibbs?"

"You know damn well I did, Leon. Just like you know he never turned in the sheet."

"Oops, looks to me like Agent DiNozzo will have some leave without pay as well as disciplinary actions due him when he finally decides to return." "Cut the crap, Leon and listen to what turned up on my phone this morning."

Gibbs handed his phone over and Vance reluctantly placed it to his ear to hear the message. "He left that for you last night?"

"Seems that way. Now what's Tony doing in Vegas?"

Unnerved by what he'd heard, Vance quickly explained the phone call he'd received from the FBI field office.

"Impossible! From what I found earlier, there's no Vegas operation on record."

Before either man could speak, Gibbs's phone rang. "I'm a little busy here, Tobias. You Fibbies can't figure out how to tie your ties or your shoes this time?" Gibbs was quiet for a minute or so, listening. "What? No, don't come here! I'm headed home. Meet me there and bring everything you know about this."

Fornell must have spoken again.

"No! There's more going on than that but I'll explain when you get there." Hanging up on the other agent as always, Gibbs glared at Vance. "Fornell was just notified that an FBI agent's remains had been found a couple days ago behind a casino in Vegas."

"Connected?"

"Sounds that way to me. I'm meeting him at my house and then I'm going to find DiNozzo!"

He turned to leave and was by the door when Vance called him back. "Gibbs, your team? The case you've been working?"

"Don't give a damn about either one, Leon. I'm going to do whatever I need to find DiNozzo and get my agent back. Don't call me, Director. I'll call you." With that, Gibbs had left the room.

 

**

 

Roy backed out of the small, cold room, allowing his boss to go first, giving him unnecessary protection. Their new property was no longer the intimidating specimen when they’d first encountered him. But that didn’t mean that Roy trusted him to not attempt some stupid response to his captivity. Many of the men they’d brought in for training tried to fight long after they should have learned do so was inadvisable. As the door slammed loudly behind them, he noticed the smirk on Marco’s face.

“Didn’t give him the full shot, didja?”

“No. The client is coming sooner than I’d hoped and I need him to want more in a shorter time frame.” Marco glanced over at the other man. “And if he hurts a bit more in between our visits that’s a plus considering the amount of trouble he’s caused us.”

Tony struggled to grab hold of the fleeting thoughts and images attacking his sub-conscious. Had he been able to think logically, he would have understood that the drugs he’d been injected with were playing games with his system and his mind. At this point, all he knew was that he couldn’t seem to get enough air in his lungs yet he still felt the need to run, even though he knew he couldn’t. He tried to curl up even more, hoping to hide from the images in his head. Hoping to hide from whatever they were shooting into him as much as he knew he’d welcome another shot soon as the edges of need were already beginning to build despite the idea that he’d just had another shot. Hoping to be freed from his personal hell as much as he realized he’d been forsaken and forgotten, his desperate voice mail likely ignored.

 

**

 

Gibbs ran down the stairs, grabbed a few items from his desk and placed something in the top drawer before leaving the building as quickly as he had arrived. He'd reached his truck and was pulling out of the parking lot as McGee was pulling in. McGee watched in surprise as Gibbs left with no words, acknowledgment or even a phone call after McGee had honked his horn and then yelled at his boss, wondering if he should follow him. Finally he shrugged his shoulders and drove to his normal parking space, wondering what was going on so early in the day. Gibbs sped down the street in his normal fashion, only a single thought on his mind. Get home, get the info he needed from Tobias, formulate a plan and get to Vegas to find Tony. "Hang on, DiNozzo!" he muttered. "Still not sure what you got yourself involved with but I'm comin for ya."

 

**

  
 


End file.
